The Story of Jack's First Time In The Refuge
by InkSpatteredHands
Summary: The title says it all. Its just the story of Jack's first time in the Refuge, and how he ended up there. Written for the Newsies Pape Selling Competition.


**Newsies Pape Selling Competition**

 **Task:** 1

 **Word Count:** Right now is 8652

 **Prompts used:**

 **(Word)** Darkness

 **(Color)** Red

 **(Object)** A stick

 **Disclaimer** : I definitely own Newsies. Definitely NOT haha. *quiet sobbing in a corner*

Crutchie woke up to the sound of someone softly crying. Immediately, the boy was up. _Probably Buttons having another dream about his father._ Buttons had had a rather rough childhood, and sometimes needed comfort from the other boys.

With a sigh, he swung his legs over the side of the bed, and groped for his crutch. He hobbled over to Button's bed. Buttons was snoring softly, but not crying. Crutchie's brows drew close together. Who was crying?

The sound was coming from Jack's bunk. Crutchie shuffled over, and glanced at the sleeping form. Jack Kelly, leader of the Manhattan newsies, was whimpering in his sleep, and tossing and turning back and forth. Crutchie paused. _Should I wake him up? That would be embarrassing for him… maybe I shouldn't._ Just then, Jack curled up in a ball, and in a hushed whisper softly pleaded.

"Stop…please-" Crutchie's heart broke at the sound of the usually loud and boisterous leader sounding so weak.

He shook Jack lightly. Jack flinched at his touch, and whimpered again.

"Jack," Crutchie whispered, and shook him harder. Jack suddenly jerked up into an upright position with a cry. In his panicked state, Jack didn't seem to realize that he was safe. Crutchie took an involuntary step back. Jack swung his head and stared at Crutchie with unfocused, tear-laden eyes.

"Crutchie?" He whispered hoarsely.

"It's me." Crutchie murmured softly, studying Jack carefully. Jack stared at the floor. "Jack. Are youse okay?" Jack looked at Crutchie, then back at the floor.

Crutchie scooted closer to Jack. "Was it about the Refuge?" Crutchie questioned softly. Jack stiffened.

"Jack?" Crutchie stared at the still form. Jack turned toward Crutchie and stared at him with a mixture of confusion and fear. "How'd you know?" He questioned.

"Ise your brother Jack, I can sense these sorta things. Do youse want to toilk about it? I'll listen real well, I promise."

The last sentence came out in a rush, and Crutchie mentally scolded himself for talking too fast and being too pushy.

Instead, Jack grabbed a sheet of paper, a few pencils, and pointed at the ceiling. " _Roof,"_ he mouthed. Crutchie nodded, apprehensive.

They climbed out the window and onto the fire escape, walking up the metal steps as quietly as they could. The night air was cool and refreshing compared to the stuffiness and heat inside of the lodging house.

Crutchie turned to look over the side of the railing. Buildings loomed peacefully nearby, and there was little going on in the streets. A man was walking by himself, and a single light was left on in the tall office building nearby.

Distracted with sightseeing, Crutchie's crutch slipped and slided on the metal grating and he stumbled, catching himself just in time.

Jack turned. "Are youse okay?" He asked, concern written all over his face. Crutchie wanted to scream, _Don't worry about me. Are you okay?_

Instead Crutchie nodded, resting a moment. "Keep on goin'. I'll catch up."

"I can wait." Jack leaned back on the railing, and gazed at the dark sky. "It's funny to think that dat's the same sky as Santa Fe." He commented.

Crutchie nodded, only half listening as he concentrated on getting up the next few steps.

They reached the roof, and Crutchie plopped down on the hard stone floor, relieved.

Jack joined him on the ground, and took out his paper and pencils. "Did I eva tell you 'bout the first time I got thrown inta dat place? Not the time wit my friend Teddy Roosevelt, but the time befor' dat. "

Crutchie shook his head, and turned so he was facing Jack. Jack took a deep breath, glanced quickly at Crutchie, back at his paper and pencils, then began sketching and telling the story. "I was 'bout ten, mebbe eleven…"

The Story of Jack's First Time at The Refuge

The frigid winter air nipped at his nose, and he shook in his threadbare coat. Still, he was glad for the little protection it gave from the freezing winter.

Many of the older newsboys tried to fight their way through the chilling weather without jackets, and ended up sick in bed in the Lodging House. Kloppman was struggling as well, and had to start selling things from the Lodging House to pay rent.

Blankets were far and few inbetween and medicine was hard to acquire. The few newsies that still tried to sell papes had little luck. No one wanted to be out in the horrible weather.

The last straw had been when the leader of the newsies had fallen sick. For ten year old Jack, he was the strongest and bravest person he had known, and to watch him get sicker and sicker as the days passed was scary to say the least.

On that particular day Jack and and an older newsie named Bull were trying to sell the last of their papes on a street corner.

"Hey miss! Buy a pape for me little brudda?" Bull called out to a younger lady with a large purse.

Jack coughed into his hand, and pretended to be sick. "Please, miss?" He asked weakly. The women smiled sympathetically. "I'm so sorry boys, but I don't have any spare money. The economy is rough right now. Best wishes."

She walked away, heels skidding slightly on the icy sidewalks. Bull and Jack watched her go.

Jack's stomach growled. "When are we gonna eat Bull?" Jack asked, looking up at Bull. Bull ruffled his hair absentmindedly. "Soon. Not right now though."

Jack frowned, but kept quiet. The pair stared into the empty streets for minute.

"Hey, so you knows hows some ofta boys are sick?" Bull said. Jack nodded solemnly. "Do- do youse want to get them better again?" Bull inquired. Jack nodded vigorously.

"Yes!"

"Hows about we goes into the general store and get some of dose blankets and medicine?" Jack frowned. "Where are wes gonna get the money?"

Bull hesitated. "I was thinkin'... maybe we could, you know…" Jack's eyes widened.

"Steal?" He exclaimed.

Bull clapped a hand over Jack's mouth.

"Don't go tellin' the whole world!" Jack pried Bull's fingers off his mouth.

"But- we can't steal! That's wrong!" Bull sighed, and adjusted his cap.

"I don't knows, I just, youse know, want them to get better, dats all. And if it would help… jus' an idea. Forgit about it. Let's go home."

Jack stood in shock at the older boy, then closed his mouth, and followed the older boy. Bull coughed a lot on the way home, occasionally stopping and resting.

Jack couldn't stand the sound of coughing anymore. The cough seemed to be spreading like a wildfire and taking over all of the newsies, and he hated it.

They reached the Lodging House and wearily opened the door and walked in. The building was only a tiny bit warmer than outside, and the walls were bare, giving the space an empty, abandoned look. They reached the Lodging House and wearily opened the door and walked in. The building was only a tiny bit warmer than outside, and the walls were bare, giving the space an empty, abandoned look.

A doctor was inside, examining newsies throat.

"It's influenza again." The doctor mumbled to himself. He snapped his doctor's bag shut. "Mr. Kloppmann needs to quarantine the sick from the healthy." The doctor said, speaking to himself.

Jack clutched his Santa Fe drawing in his pocket.

"Are they gonna get betta, Doc?" He asked the doctor.

The doctor gave him a halfhearted smile. "If they have blankets, food, and medicine, for sure. But right now, it doesn't look like you fellas are doing so well. I wish I could help, but money's tight for even us doctors, and my family needs to survive as well. I'm so sorry, son."

The doctor walked out, frowning and mumbling to himself more. Jack looked around at all of the sick newsies, and bit his lip.

"Mebbe Bull was right. Mebbe it is a good idea to steal. Pa used to do it, so mebbe I'se can too." A pit settled itself at the bottom of his stomach.

"Tomarra," he told himself.

The next morning Jack climbed down from the top bunk and plopped his cap down on his curly brown locks. He walked over to Bull's bunk and shook the boy.

"Bull!" He shook Bull's side. Bull coughed, and groaned. Jack felt his forehead. Bull was burning up.

Jack shook Bull. "No. No. No, no, no, no. You can't be sick! I need you! Bull!"

Jack shook the older boy harder and harder. "Get up, get up!" Bull opened one eye.

"Jack.." He murmured , then a cough racked his whole body.

Jack backed up, and ran out of the Lodging House, crying. He ran without thinking, up and down the streets. When he was finally exhausted, he found himself in front of the general store. A grim determination set over him. _I'm gonna do it. If I can get the medicine, Bull and all the sick Newsies will be all better._

Jack opened the door and walked into that small general store with the intent of stealing anything and everything that would help the newsies.

The bell jangled, and the storekeeper looked up. The storekeeper was a blubbery, doughy man with tiny eyes that were nearly swallowed up in the layers of fat upon fat on his face. A thin raking of black hair covered the top of his head. The man sneered at the small, thin boy then leaned back on his chair, and continued reading his book. Jack wove his way through the aisles, searching for blankets and canned food. He turned the corner and lo! and behold, red, thick blankets, perfect for the taking. Jack snatched up three or four and buried his face in them.

 _So soft…_ Jack thought. He put them down. _Medicine first, blankets last,_ he reminded himself. He glanced at the shopkeeper again, and took a deep breath. He could do this. For the Newsies. He picked up a small bottle of Asprin and put it in his coat pocket. A light, shivery feeling left him filled him up from the head to the toes. Jack reached out and took again. And again, and again, stuffing the precious containers in his shoes and pants, and beneath his cap. More and more bottles disappeared into the depths of his pockets.

Suddenly, he stopped and stared in wonderment at the half empty shelf. _That's enough for now,_ Jack told himself. A part of him itched to take more, but he resisted, walking back over to the blanket section. To take these, he would have to be fast. The shopkeeper was fat and pudgy, and probably couldn't keep up if Jack just ran.

So with a deep breath, he gathered as many blankets as he could in his arms, and began to make a break for the exit. The shopkeeper immediately noticed.

"Stop, thief!" He screamed at the skinny boy taking all of his supplies. Jack pushed himself to go faster, but it was difficult with all the blankets and bottles clanking against his legs and arms. He whipped out of the store into the chilly afternoon air. The shopkeeper attempted to run after Jack, but gave up, panting and huffing. Jack turned back and looked at the shopkeeper, struggling to get a breath in.

He felt a twinge of guilt for taking the shopkeeper's things but quickly shook it off. _He's got so many blankets and medicine, and I need these things more than him,_ Jack reminded himself. He threw a glance over his shoulder. The shopkeeper was up and running, and somehow gaining on him.

Jack took a deep breath, and urged his legs to go faster. His left foot skidded on a piece of slippery ice, and he lost his balance for a second. Jack's heart skipped a beat, but he quickly regained his balance.

He glanced back at the shopkeeper again, and ducked into an alley. Beat up garbage cans and an abandoned three-wheeled cart offered a perfect hiding place. Jack crouched behind the cart, and waited for the shopkeeper to run past him. His breath made little clouds in the chilly air, and he covered his mouth with his frozen hands in an futile attempt to be more inconspicuous.

The fat shopkeeper ran past the alleyway, panting and wheezing. Jack breathed a sigh of relief. _That was closer than it should have been,_ he told himself. He gathered the warm red blankets in his arms, and stood up, and started walking towards the Lodging House.

Kloppmann glanced at Jack as he came through the door, then went back to his paperwork. Suddenly, he did a double take. _What is he holding?_

The grinning ten year old was carrying three or four green blankets, and countless glass bottles of medicine. Kloppmann stared at the boy, bewildered.

Jack lifted up the blankets. "I got blankets for da newsies!" he exclaimed proudly.

"An' medicine!" The pile of blankets started to lean to one side and tip over. Kloppmann ran over to aid the boy with his load.

"Goodness gracious, boy, where in the city of New York did you get all of these things?" He asked, grabbing two of the blankets.

Jack hesitated. _Should I tell him? Maybe later,_ He decided. "Unimportant. Aren'tcha glad I got dese?" He asked cheerfully. Kloppmann felt a twinge of suspicion, but decided not to ask at the moment.

"Great job, my boy! These will help so much." He told the youngster. Jack split into a huge smile.

"Can we go give da blankets an' medicine to da newsies?" Kloppmann nodded, and took the small hand into his own. His bones creaked as he climbed up the stairs, Jack pulling on his arm. They entered the room full of sick newsies.

"Guess what guys? I gots a buncha blankets an' medicine!" Jack shouted loudly. A few shushed them but most Newsies looked curiously at him and Kloppmann.

"What is this, some sorta joik?" one Newsie asked, then coughed. Kloppmann smiled, and ruffled Jack's hair.

"He's telling the truth boys, Jack here got all of you lazy butts medicine and blankets! So who wants to help me distribute them?"

Some newsies clapped and cheered, while others just stared. Jack proudly helped hand out the supplies.

Jack walked to Bull's bed last. Bull cracked an eye open. "Hey, kid," he said, his voice hoarse from coughing.

Jack handed Bull a glass of water and one of the pills. "Here you go." He watched as Bull drank the water and pill all in one gulp.

"Now dat you took da pill youse gonna feel a lot gooder, right?" Jack asked Bull. Bull nodded, and smiled. Jack spit out his hand and held it out to Bull.

"Promise?" Bull took his hand without spitting on it and shook it.

"Promise." He told Jack. Then he coughed, and started to fade off into the land of dreams. Jack walked over and stood by Kloppmann's side.

Kloppmann ruffled his hair. "Good job, son," he murmured.

"Are they gonna get betta Mista Kloppmann?" Jack asked, eyes wide. Kloppmann chuckled. "Yes, the ones that got medicine should." He answered, careful of how he responded. The truth was, Jack got a lot of medicine, but not enough for all of the sick Newsies, just some.

And four blankets weren't going to help that much. Still, it was obvious the boy was very proud of his contribution, and Kloppmann wasn't going to be the type to deflate the boy's happiness.

Then two of the newsies, eight year old Pie-Eater and ten year old Skittery, rushed up to Jack. "Wow! Where did- how did-!" Jack beamed.

"Hold on now fellas, an' the fabulous Jack Kelly will reveal all." Kloppmann leaned in closer.

"I bet you jus' stole dem medicine bottles an' blankets, eh?" Skittery scowled. Jack's smiled faltered slightly.

"No!" He subconsciously touched his Newsies cap, and cleared his throat. "I'll tell you'se how it went if you jus' listen!" Skittery stared hard at him.

"Tell us, tell us Jack!" Pie-Eater interrupted.

"Now he's givin' me real 'spect here Skittery. Mebbe I'll jus' tell Pie Eata." Jack declared.

"Fine. Be me guest. I didn't want to heah your thiefin' story anyways." Skittery walked away. Jack stuck out his tongue at his retreating back, then turned back to Pie Eater.

"Let's go toik on my bunk." He told him. Pie Eater nodded, and they walked over to the wooden bunk bed.

Jack's bed was unmade, as usual, and had things littered all over it. Dirty socks, underwear, scraps of garbage with doodles and drawings on them, and a ball of twine.

Jack shoved the items to one side of the bed, and sat down on the other. Pie Eater bounced up on the bed and plopped down next to Jack. Jack proceeded to tell Pie Eater the whole story, thiefing and all.

"Wow!" Pie Eater exclaimed. "That's so cool! I wish'd I coulda have done someting like dat too! Hey! Mebbe if you gotta go back, like if more newsies get, youse know, sick or somethin' den I can go too!"

Pie Eater bounced up and down excitedly.

"Shhh!" One of the older newsies scolded.

Pie Eater lowered his voice a notch. "An' mebbe we can even get ona' dose pies as well!" Jack scoffed at the suggestion.

"Ise not stealin' again!" Pie Eater's face fell.

"Hey! Jack! Pie Eata! We'se going to lunch. Are youse comin'?" An older Newsie called. The two boys scrambled off the bed. Pie Eater quickly pulled on his hat and oversized threadbare coat. Jack adjusted his gray cap and buttoned up his own giant coat.

Three weeks later all the medicine was gone, and the Newsies were still sick. The bad weather still raged outside, and Kloppmann was still behind on paying for the Lodging House. Things had seemed to look up for a short time when Jack brought the medicine, but it hadn't lasted as long as many of the Newsies had hoped.

Jack would get asked often when he would get medicine again, and where he acquired it from. He usually enjoyed attention, but this time it set him on edge every time someone asked.

"Stop asking me!" He snapped at Kid Blink, who seemed to be the millionth Newsie asking about the medicine. Blink held up his hand.

"Whoa man, I was jus' asking. No need to go all berserk-ish on me." Jack walked away with a grimace. This whole medicine thing was getting complicated.

 _I'm definitely going back to the store,_ he thought, _but I'm going to have to be more careful. The shopkeeper knows my face now. And I need to get more medicine and blankets then last time. Maybe I can take Pie Eater with._

"Pie Eata!" Jack called across the room. Several Newsies shushed him. "Geez, sorry. Calm down." Pie Eater's head popped out from his bunk.

"Yeah?" Jack motioned him over. Pie Eater skittered towards him.

"Whadda want Jack?" He asked.

Jack lowered his voice a notch, "Youse know how you wanted to come wit' me to, youse know, take some more ofta medicine?" Pie Eater nodded enthusiastically.

"Yeah! You're really gon' let me go wit' you?" This time Jack shushed him.

"Here's the plan. Wese gon be sellin' partners, see, den we'll both sneak off while all ofta other newsies are workin'. Wese gon go to the store then youse gon go and distract the uh, shopkeeper, an' I'll go take da stuff. Good, right?" Jack flashed one of his famous smiles.

Pie Eater scratched his head, and grinned. "Sounds good!"

"Shake on it?" Jack spit on his hand and stuck it out. Pie Eater copied him and shook Jack's hand.

"Tomorra? Tomorra."

The next day…

"Are you ready?" Jack asked Pie Eater. Pie Eater shifted his newsbag and nodded. Jack slapped two dimes on the counter.

"Forty papes Weasel, for me an' Pie Eater." Mr. Wiesel shifted his toothpick from one corner of his mouth to the other side. "It's Wiesel. Only forty?" Pie Eater nodded solemnly.

"Tanks, Weasel. Really hope dose lice come out of youse chin." Jack said, pulling the stack of papers towards himself.

"Hey! I don't have lice, it just itches," Mr. Wiesel said defensively, and scratched his chin stubble.

"Doesn't look that way. Check ya later!" Jack called, walking away. He handed 20 papes to Pie Eater.

"Sell all of these an' den we'll go to da store," he told him. Pie Eater lifted a pape into the air.

"Cold weather kills three people!" He shouted. The headline was really 'Cold Weather Is Bad For Your Joints." but like Jack, Pie Eater didn't mind stretching the truth a bit. They both quickly sold the little amount of papes they had.

"Let's go," Jack said to Pie Eater. "Rememba- anywhere you can hide dem medicine bottles in all da places on ya you can, uh, tink of." Pie Eater frowned.

"I know. Let's go already!" Jack grabbed him by the shoulders.

"Your joib is to distract dat shopkeeper, you heah me? Don't go stealin' stuff fora youself." Pie Eater squirmed in Jack's grip.

"I get it, let's go!" Jack released his shoulders. Pie Eater adjusted his cap.

"This way." Jack motioned Pie Eater to follow him. And so the pair went, taking a

"Aww, stuff a sock in it." Jack almost gave himself away laughing. The shopkeeper had a high, whiny voice.

"I don't talk to tiny street rats like yourself, and children. Children are the bane of this world. I hate them! Hate them, hate them, hate them! Last week, a child much like yourself came in and stole almost half my medicine supply, and four of my blankets!" The shopkeeper shuddered at the thought, then continued ranting.

Jack crept in, careful not to ring the bell. _Medicine, blankets, then hand off to Pie Eater so he could load up more, that's the plan,_ he told himself. The shopkeeper continued talking to Pie Eater.

"And if I had my way, I would make a town with nothing but adults in it. Think of it. Peaceful streets with no noisy kids running around, and none of those awful newsboys screaming about made up headlines. Those are the worst I tell you. Right when I'm about to have my mid morning nap they come by, screaming right by my window. Buy a pape mista? Well I tell 'em no every single time. And really rudely too. But those nasty little boogers still come back. They're like a rash you just can't get rid of."

The shopkeeper continued talking to an increasingly scared Pie Eater. _Hates kids? Hates Newsies?_ Pie Eater thought. _This guy must be real awful._ Meanwhile Jack was in the back pilfering as many medicine bottles and blankets as he could. _This gets easier every time,_ He thought to himself, stuffing a bottle under his cap.

"Coo coo, coo coo! " Jack cooed like a dove to signal that he was done. Pie Eater nodded at the shopkeeper then ran to the back to go next to Jack.

"How rude. Just as I was talking to him too." The shopkeeper mourned. "Boy! I'm going out to get some fresh air. Don't steal anything," he called to the shrimp that had entered his store two minutes ago.

Pie Eater said nothing. When both of the boys heard the bell jingle, announcing the leave of the fat shopkeeper, they breathed a sigh of relief.

"Okay Pie Eata, here you go. Jus' stuff 'em in whatever nooks and crannies you can find. Ya, like that." He whispered. Pie Eater was loving the thrill that came with taking.

"Dis is so cool!" He exclaimed loudly. Jack clapped a hand over the eight year old's mouth.

"Sh. We don't know wen da shopkeeper's gonna come back. So shut it." Pie Eater obediently closed his mouth.

"What about blankets?" He said through Jack's fingers, so it sounded more like "Wubout danklets?" Jack nodded, and took his hand off of Pie Eater's mouth.

"Dis way." Jack led Pie Eater over to the blankets section and motioned to the kind of red blankets he had stolen. They both picked up a stack. Jack took four, and Pie Eater took three. But, after all, Pie Eater was two years younger, so it wasn't expected that he could hold the same amount as Jack. The boys looked at each other.

"Are you ready?" Jack asked Pie Eater.

"To what?" Pie Eater said.

"To run!" The boys cautiously looked around the empty store, and ran for the the front door. They sprinted out into the cold winter weather, Jack first. And stopped.

Waiting for them outside the front door was the fat shopkeeper, and his Snyder's goons. Pie Eater and Jack dropped the red blankets.

"Hello boys." The fat shopkeeper smirked, "Do you think I'd really leave the store for fresh air and a walk? I'm fat, I don't walk, and I especially don't let tiny children steal from me!" He shrieked at the top of his lungs.

Snyder didn't have Oscar and Morris Delancey as his henchmen at the time, but he did have two burly 17 year old boys nicknamed Fists and Knuckles. And Fists and Knuckles were fast. Jack's stomach twisted.

 _Oh, crap,_ he thought. Four against two weren't good odds, and they were all older than Pie Eater and himself.

"Run, Pie Eater!" He screamed as loud as he could, his breath freezing in the chilly air. Pie Eater took off like a shot. Knuckles and Fists looked bewildered for a second, then Fists took off after him.

Knuckles, on the other hand, went after Jack. Jack panicked, and took off after Pie Eater. Fists was coming pretty close to Pie Eater, getting ready to jump him.

"Pi-look out!" Jack yelled at the top of his lungs. Pie Eater swerved to the side, and Fists stumbled over a crate labeled Peaches.

Meanwhile Knuckles advanced on Jack. Jack skidded on a ice patch in an attempt to get away, then quickly regained his balance and started running again. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Fists reaching out to grab Pie Eater by the back of his coat.

"Hey Fists!" Jack called. Fists paused for a second, looking for whoever shouted his name. Pie Eater continued running, giving him a slight lead on Fists. Behind Jack, Knuckles was getting angrier and angrier.

"Stop confusing my brother and just give yourselves up to us, little vermin!" Pie Eater suddenly stumbled, tripped, and scraped his knees on the frozen dirt road. Fists grinned.

"Oh I like it when it's easy." He grunted. He started walking over to pick Pie Eater off the tough ground. Knuckles nodded, and came over to help.

"Looks like we'll need to carry this one after we beat him up good." Pie Eater turned, saw Fists and Knuckles, and started shaking. Pie Eater's face portrayed absolute terror.

"Please, no," he whimpered, "I jus' was in the store at the time, I wasn't stealing, he was. Please, no." Knuckles chuckled.

"How interesting. Fists? You may do the honors first." Knuckles picked up Pie Eater by the collar and held him in the air. Fists grunted, and pulled back his arm for a good punch.

"Stop!" Jack stepped out of his hiding place. Jack felt his heart beating wildly, and his mind screaming to not do what he was planning. "It was jus' me. He didn't do nothin'." Fists unclenched his fist.

Knuckles lowered Pie Eater a bit. "So you were telling the truth. Fists, grab the other one." Jack backed up.

"Jus' let us both go. I'll poisonally return all da medicine myself." Knuckles laughed.

"The world doesn't work like that. You'll learn that by the time you're my age." A flicker of sadness flitted it's way across Knuckles expression.

He dropped Pie Eater, and the eight year old ran off without a look back. Jack's stomach dropped like a rock. He glanced back in the direction of the goons. Knuckles took a step closer.

"See? The world is a cruel place. Friends betray you. You end up with people like this. Believe me, I know." He pointed at Fists, who was taking earwax out with his pinky finger.

"I don' think the world is too bad honestly." Jack said, watching Knuckles like a mouse watches a cat. Every one of Knuckles' words was filled with spite. He advanced, step by step, word by word.

"Maybe the world hates me, I don't know," he laughed, a harsh bitter sound. "And now? Now I can make other people feel my pain. So have fun in the refuge, _my friend_."

Jack watched in horror as a fist came at him. All the air whooshed out of him. And then all went black.

The first thing that Jack noticed when he woke up was a putrid smell. Automatically, he wrinkled his nose. It smelt of urine and disease, and something else unpleasant that he couldn't place. The second thing that hit him was the pain in his stomach. His stomach _hurt._ And the third thing he noticed was the sound of someone softly crying and hushed voices whispering.

"Oi! He's awake!" A voice called. Jack opened his eyes and tried to find where the voice came from. A skinny boy with freckles and bug eyes was leaning above him.

"Where- where is I?" Jack asked in a whisper. The boy frowned.

"The Refuge." Jack sat up with a gasp, ignoring the uncomfortableness of his stomach.

He took in his surroundings. Iron bunks filled with three kids to a threadbare mattress lined the walls. The sound of soft crying was coming from a far bunk. Dirt caked the floor, along with the feces of some small creature, such as a rat or a mouse. The bunk he was laying on had one other person in it, and there were no sheets. The mattress had a dark red stain on it, and was sagging apart. It was cold and dark, the only light coming from a window with iron bars on it. It was freezing. The smell of sickness hung heavily in the air.

Jack had heard stories about the Refuge from other Newsies, but he hadn't imagined it would be this bad. The boy looked at him with pity.

"Welcome to da mos' fabulous place on earth." The boy grinned, then a cough overtook his thin frame. "So-sorry about dat. Happens sometimes, ya knows?"

Jack nodded. "Where's my jacket?" He asked the boy.

"Snyda probably took it, 'long with any possessions of value." Jack felt for the medicine bottles. Gone.

"So, whaddya do to land in here?" The bug eyed boy asked. Jack opened his mouth to speak when the boy's eyes went wide with fear. "Oh man, it's Spider. Poison me." He jumped off the bed and ran over to his bunk.

Jack heard a most peculiar sound. Click, click, tap. Click, click, tap. The lock on the door rattled for a moment, then clicked. All the boys slid onto the floor and stood up straight with a military-like rigidness. Some struggled to get out of bed, but managed to make it to the floor. Jack slid out of the rickety mattress and stood up straight like everyone else, apprehensive of what was to come.

The door opened, and revealed a man of ordinary height with salt and pepper hair, a bowler hat, and shiny black shoes. In one hand he carried a simple curved wooden cane.

 _That must be what made the tapping sound, and his shoes must have made the clicking sound_ , Jack thought.

"Hello, boys!" The man shouted, a smile creeping its way across his face. "Good evening, Mr. Snyder," the boys chanted.

Snyder click-click-tapped his way around the room, checking that no boys were left in bed. Jack stared at the ground, hoping that the warden wouldn't notice him. Unfortunately, the man stopped right in front of him.

"Why didn't I hear you telling me good evening boy?" He asked Jack, his voice low but loud enough for everyone else to hear. Jack's heart beat fast.

"I'm new here, and I didn' know," he told the floorboards.

"Look at me, boy." Jack kept staring at the floor. Snyder raised his voice more.

"Look at me!" Jack lifted his head up and looked straight into Snyder's eyes. He took a step back. The man's eyes were filled with fire and hate. They burned with a cruel desire, flickering and looking for their next victim.

"So you're the new boy, eh?" Snyder asked in a voice that seemed to be lathered with fake sweetness. Jack gulped.

"Yes."

Snyder grinned. "You haven't had orientation yet, have you?" Jack looked back at the floor. Suddenly the wooden cane end was underneath his chin, forcing his head up.

"Look at me, boy." Jack looked at the ceiling instead, preferring it over the venom in the man's eyes. Suddenly, a hand came out of nowhere and slapped him on the cheek. He hadn't even had time to react before it was over and his cheek started to sting. Tears began to form in his eyes. Jack had never been slapped before. He looked back at Snyder, unable to do anything else in fear of another slap.

"That's better. Orientation is tonight. I look forward too it. See you then, _Jack Kelly."_ Snyder spat out his name, then left, locking the door behind him. Jack crumpled down on the bed.

"Oi, you're in for it now mate. Orientation means a beatin'" the bug eyed boy told him from across the room. "My advice? Don't fight back. It ain't worth it." The sentence sent him into another hacking fit.

Jack shuddered, then curled up on the mattress, ignoring the boy that was sleeping on the other side of it, and promptly fell asleep.

A few hours later he was woken up by someone roughly shaking him. Fists.

"Git up. You has a meetin' wit' Mr. Snyda," Fists said. Jack felt his cheek where Snyder had slapped him. It was already starting to puff up. Fists lifted him out of the bunk, and grabbed his wrists with one hand and pulled out a length of rope with the other. _He's gonna bind me up like a prisoner with the rope,_ Jack realized with terror. Jack tried fighting him.

"Please, no! Fists! Please," he begged. Fists shrugged.

"Sorry, but whut Mr. Snyda says goes." He looped the rope tightly around Jack's wrists, cutting into them. He then grabbed the last bit of rope for himself, successfully binding Jack's hands together like a leash. Jack struggled against the rope, trying to escape. Every move he made made the rope cut into his wrists even more. Fists pulled him towards the locked door, unlocked it, then pulled him into the hallway. Jack gave up struggling and surveyed his surroundings. Beige walls and carpet. Windows! A sliver of hope wound its way into his heart. There was a chance of escape. He decided to wait until Fists loosened his grip on the rope leash. Except Fists never did, keeping an iron grip on the bindings, and pulling him down the hallway until they reached a room.

Jack tried to escape one last time before Fists pulled him in the room. Jack blinked. The room was bare, except for a pole in the middle, and Snyder with a red hot iron. Jack felt terror and adrenaline rush through his body. Jack continued struggling, until he felt his wrists rubbed raw. Fists tied him to the pole, then left. Snyder chuckled.

"I need to make sure you brats never get away from me. So I use a system that was passed on to me from cattle farmers. Branding. I'm sure you'll love your new brand. After all, it's my mark."

The brand was three circles looped through each other, and to Jack they looked like chain loops. Jack felt as if he was trapped in a nightmare. Snyder grabbed his shoulder, ripped off the sleeve part, and pressed the red-hot iron to his skin. Jack felt as if a white fire was overtaking his arm, burning it. _Make it stop, make it stop, make the pain stop!_

He screamed, and hit Snyder in the face. The iron on his arm didn't go away, Snyder grinning as Jack's hand made contact with his face. He didn't even blink as Jack hit him. The man seemed to be made of titanium. Snyder removed the iron, and the smell of burning flesh emerged. Jack screamed again. He tried in vain to touch the brand, to relieve the hurt.

"I think it looks rather nice, don't you think? But, about that hit to my face. I can't let that slide, can I, dear Jack?"

The part that happened next Jack didn't want to go into details with Crutchie, but it involved Jack, Snyder, Snyder's cane, and many bruises all over. Snyder came at him with a hunger that most only see in wild animals, a brutality that frightened Jack to the core. And he enjoyed it. He enjoyed inflicting pain on Jack.

Finally Snyder was done beating him to a pulp, and Jack was dragged back to the room with all the boys in it, soaked with sweat and red blood. The moment Fists released him Jack crumpled to the floor and went unconscious.

Jack woke up the next day sore all over and scared. Scared of what would happen next. Scared of how long he could be in this place. Scared of Snyder and his cane. He grabbed his arm with the brand on it, curled up in a ball and softly cried for the first time in four years. He felt a nudge on his back, and mentally cried out in pain.

"Stop cryin', I'm tryin' to sleep." His bunk mate told him. Jack stopped whimpering and just stared at the crumbling wall. He watched a rat skitter across the floor. A voice floated over and found its way into Jack's ears.

"So for escape I was thinkin' we could mebbe bust through the walls."

"But it's so rough and our hands will get all bloodied and hurt. I don't know about you, but I don't want any more scratches and bruises than I already have." A second voice responded. Jack painfully shifted into a sitting position.

"I has an idea." He said, voice scratchy and low. The owners of the voices turned towards him. It was the bug eyed boy and seven others.

"Whaddya got?" The bug eyed boy asked, then coughed. Jack gestured to the bunks.

"Dese bunks are iron, right?" The boys nodded. Jack waved his hands around.

"Jus' push em into the wall, and it's probably gonna crumble." They stared at him in amazement.

"It's genius!" A boy with long wavy black hair and a nasty bruise on the side of his face told him.

"I'm Tommy-Boy, by the way." Jack sat up.

"We're gon' break out at night, an' bust out of here? I'm Jack." The boy smiled, then stopped smiling.

"Ouch. It hoits to smile wit' this stupid bruise. Den I'se get to see me family! An' my little sisters, an' me mom!"

Jack felt a twinge of sadness that he had no family to return to. Then he remembered the Newsies.

"Ise got a lot of brothers ta go home to!" He told Tommy Boy. "An' a couple o' sistahs!"

Suddenly they heard a click-click-tap in the hallway.

"Git to your bunk!" Jack told Tommy Boy in a hushed whisper. Tommy Boy rushed over to his bunk and assumed the military position. Jack struggled to get out of bed, and itched the chain brand on his arm. The lock clicked, and Snyder entered the room.

"Good morning, boys!" He said cheerfully. This time Jack chanted with the rest of the boys.

"Good morning, Mr. Snyder." Snyder started to walk towards Jack. Jack subconsciously took a step back.

"How's the brand feeling this morning, young Jack Kelly?" He asked. Jack stared him in the eyes. _I will not show him I am afraid._

"To tell youse the truth, Mista Snyda, I'd feel a loit better if you hadn't pounded me wit' your stick."

Snyder pulled his hand back and Jack flinched, waiting for the pain to come. Snyder smiled and dropped his hand.

"I see I made a lasting impression on you!" Jack scowled, but Snyder had already moved on.

Once he had made sure that no boys were in their bunks, he exited the room, and locked the door behind him. Jack's stomach growled.

"Do-do wese get to eat here?" The boy that he shared the bunk with laughed.

"Do ya think I'm tryin' for da skinny orphan look?"

The bug eyed boy spoke up. "Men! Wese gon' be outta here soon, so shut yer flappers and stop complainin'. So says the leada, Mista Fly himself!"

Jack smiled. _I finally know that guy's name. Now I can stop calling him just bug eyed boy. Fly. It suits him._

"So here's how it's gonna woik. Da five strongest outta all of us is gonna push dat ting over inta dat window. Liam, Butch, Axe, Tony, an' Grady, youse are all da strongest. Tonight, we strike!"

The sentence was met with silent cheers and fist pumps. They were ready.

That night Fly got pulled from the room via rope leash by Snyder. Jack watched apprehensively from his bunk, cowering behind his bunkmate. Unlike Jack, Fly didn't try to fight his way out, instead just letting Snyder take him. Jack unconsciously touched his arm where the brand from his time with Snyder was.

"Why do theyse got to take aways Fly? Ain't he already marked?" Jack asked Tommy Boy.

"Yeah, but Snyda likes to make sure youse can't go anywhere. So he busts us up real good." Tommy touched his leg.

"G'night Jack." Jack watched as Tommy walked over to his own bunk with a limp he hadn't noticed before.

Jack was almost getting used to going to sleep in the cold. It helped that there was another person in his bunk to provide him with body heat, but he did wish he had a thicker shirt, or at least one that was cleaner. His present shirt had splotches of blood and dirt covering it.

One of the sleeves was ripped off by Snyder, revealing the chain brand. He tore off the bottom of his shirt and wrapped it around the brand, partly to prevent infection, and partly to cover it up, and partly because when he got home, he didn't want the Newsies to see, or Snyder to have the satisfaction of looking at it. He drifted off to sleep, forgetting about the plan to escape.

Jack woke up to someone shaking him hard.

"Git up. Tonight we got to break down dat there wall." Jack groggily got up. His brain slowly computed what was happening. In a flash, he was awake.

"Is Fly back?" He quietly asked.

"Yup," someone responded. In the darkness of the room the only light was coming from the crescent moon, so it was hard to see who was talking. Jack could barely make out the shapes of the bunks and people.

"Let's roll."

As his eyes adjusted, he saw as the five boys straining to topple the iron bunk. The rest of the boys were standing behind them. Jack joined them, watching as the bunk wobbled back, forth, and finally smashed into the wall. THUNK! The bunk cracked a big part of the wall, and was now lodged in it.. But the wall still remained intact for the most part. Jack felt his heart sinking to the bottom of his stomach.

"There goes any chance of freedom now." Someone murmured.

Jack nodded, even though no one could see. Down the hall they heard a click-click-tap, click-click-tap coming towards the room. Someone swore.

"Git in bed everyone!" An older boy cried. Jack rushed over to his bunk, but six people were already on the top and bottom. He ran over to Tommy Boy's bunk. Six people. In desperation, he jumped on a random bottom bunk.

"Git off." Someone hissed, and pushed him to the floor. And that's where he was when Snyder came in.

"Jack Kelly!" His voice boomed. "I should have guessed. Trying to escape through the walls huh?" Jack tried to stuff himself underneath the bed.

"Was anyone else involved in this- this shenanigan?" The room was silent. No one spoke up.

"I guess it was all Mr. Kelly then." And with that, he snatched Jack by the leg and pulled him out from under the bed. Jack shrunk, trying to seem smaller than he was. Snyder was having a rather difficult time.

"Fly." Mr. Snyder said. "Can you please assist me in tying this vermin up?" Jack stopped struggling for a moment. Fly wouldn't.

"Yes, sir." Fly responded, his voice void of any emotion. Jack felt the feeling of terror rise up again in his chest.

"Fly, please! Ise your-your friend right?" Fly took the rope and started looping it around Jack's wrists.

"Sorry, Jack, but I looks out foir only one poirson. Me." Snyder leaned back, enjoying the drama unfolding before him.

"Come on, Jack, you don't want to miss a lesson in what happens to the rebels here?" Jack summoned the last of his courage.

"I think I'll pass."

And suddenly his cheeks sported matching bruises. He followed Snyder out into the hall without struggling. All of the previous fear was replaced with burning anger. He would get his revenge on Fly, on the other boys, and Snyder.

Snyder led him into the room with the pole and tied him up. But this time his blows didn't seem to inflict as much pain. Jack felt hot fury build within him with every blow, stewing within him. Snyder finally stopped, his need for violence satisfied for the time being.

"So, Jack Kelly, I don't think you'll do a stunt like that around here again. Tell me you won't do it again, and make sure to add the sir. You've been lacking that part in the past." Jack picked himself off the ground.

"Ise going to do that a million times if it means Ise can get out of dis hellish place. _Sir._ "

He snarled, and spit on Snyder's shiny black shoes. Jack saw a flash of surprise flicker in Snyder's eyes and something akin to fear. Snyder slapped his cheek again. Jack ignored the sting, and continued staring straight into Snyder's eyes.

He struggled against the ropes that held his hands tied behind his back. Snyder put his cane underneath Jack's chin, and forced Jack's head up, making him to look at the ceiling.

"I'd be careful of what you say around here boy. Another hour of fun for me."

And he drew back his cane for another good wack. Jack endured more of Snyder's "fun" for what seemed forever with gritted teeth, clenched fists, and unbridled determination. Snyder finally stopped raining blows on him, and took the rope off of the pole. Jack followed him out of the room, pretending to limp.

All the rage and fury rose up in him, and something snapped. He jerked up hard, pulling the rope out of Snyder's hands. Snyder stumbled backwards. Jack ran down the hall, in the opposite way of the room where he had stayed for three torturous days.

"Boy! Come back here!" Snyder shouted. Jack ran faster, feet pounding against the beige floor. Snyder click click tapped his way, trying in vain to catch up with Jack. Jack turned, skidded, then found the front door.

 _Yes!_ He struggled with the knob, trying to turn it with both hands bound. Snyder started gaining on him. The knob still wasn't working. Jack turned towards Snyder and felt the anger course through his veins.

He punched Snyder in the nose with all of his ten year old strength. Blood spurted from Snyder's nose as his head proved Newton's Third Law to be correct as his head snapped backwards. Snyder felt his nose, and tried to stop the blood from coming out.

Finally the knob turned, and Jack bounded out into the cold, dark, New York night. Freedom! Snyder shouted profanities after him.

"You'll neva get me nows!"

He called back over his shoulder to Snyder. A silvery, tingly feeling coursed through Jack's body, leaving him immeasurably happy and lightheaded. He was free! Jack ran all the way to the Newsies Lodging House, ignoring the aches and groans of his sore muscles, especially the hand he had punched Snyder with. He pushed open the front door.

"Fellas! Ise home!" He called. The first one down the stairs was Bull, looking healthier than ever.

"Jack! Youse back!" Jack ran to him and hugged him tight, not willing to ever let go. Bull stared for a moment at the clingy boy, then hugged him back.

"Youse look terrible! What happened?" Jack smiled, opened his mouth, then fainted. The lack of food, the beatings from Snyder, and his long run to the Lodging House had been too much for him, so he crumpled. Bull caught him before he hit the floor, then picked him up bridal style.

"I'm glad youse home kid. I'm glad youse home."


End file.
